


kissing my love

by RowboatCop



Series: One on Ones Skye and Coulson Definitely Didn't Have [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Coulson bending Skye over his desk sex, F/M, More Bill Withers, Neck Kissing, Neck kissing is nice, Office Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-established relationship, what if Ward hadn't reached Skye in 2x07?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 04:02:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2758880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowboatCop/pseuds/RowboatCop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ward doesn't reach Skye on Bakshi's phone in the 2x07 tag; Coulson walks into his office a little while later to find Skye listening to Bill Withers. It gets sexy on the desk. Sort of established -- but super brand new -- relationship.</p><p>One shot, part of a series of one shots that share the central conceit of changing something in an episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	kissing my love

He can’t hold back a smile at the sound of “Lean on Me” as he approaches his office, Bill Withers and Skye singing in harmony. Skye has a nice voice — the kind of voice that probably could have taken her somewhere if she had had someone to notice and train her — which is one of those weirdly personal things he learned about her back when she first started hanging around his office. Back before they’d completely trampled all over the concept of boundaries between them. The song is ending as he reaches the door, and he watches as she pushes away from her laptop and saunters back to the record player, still humming along as Side A of the album ends.

She turns over the vinyl with nimble fingers and drops the needle, and he remembers not too long ago when Skye had never used a turntable. Now, she’s as comfortable with it as she is in his office, and it makes him smile.

When side B starts and Skye’s hips start to move hypnotically to the more bass-heavy beat, it’s rapidly impossible to think of anything but the sight before him. It’s an intimate moment to be watching, especially when she runs a hand through her hair and her sweater rises up enough to show a strip of skin above the low-slung waistband of her sweats.

Just like that, he wants her. Even though he’s already had her once this morning, he wants her again.

His mouth goes a dry, and he can’t imagine what face he’s making when Skye turns around and sees him because she smiles slowly and seductively. He thinks she really likes the way he’s looking at her.

“Morning,” she offers, innocent in a way that doesn’t match her hungry eyes, in a way that doesn’t match _his_ hungry eyes, that doesn’t memory of her waking him up less than two hours ago with her lips wrapped around his cock. He had dozed off after they were done, and she had kissed him lightly before coming to start her analysis of Bakshi’s phone.

“Morning.”

Coulson swallows and watches as Skye moves back towards the desk where she’s set up shop, still swaying her hips. Instead of sitting, though, she leans against the table and looks at him; he flushes as he can almost feel her eyes scanning from his face down his body.

“You’re looking good this morning,” she tells him with a leering smile, though her face then turns more serious as she takes him in. “Much better after a good night of sleep.” The way she moves her eyes down his body makes him want to step closer.

“I feel much better,” he acknowledges, nodding. “I owe a lot of that to you.”

She shakes her head, as though shrugging off the work she’s done and the support she’s given him — shrugging off how hard the past few days have been on her. She’d done the same thing last night, had denied any form of thanks until he had kissed her. He wants to press it — he wants to thank her, to make her see how grateful he is for her — but he holds back because she doesn’t seem to want to hear it.

“Have you found anything on Bakshi’s phone?” He decides to change the topic as he actually walks into the office, letting the door shut behind him.

“No,” she answers. “I mean, there’s a contacts list, and I’m running matches on some of the numbers, but it looks like he was really careful. Probably nothing very important.”

Coulson nods and watches as Skye turns and types something on her laptop before picking up her tablet. A moment later, the search she’s running on Bakshi’s contacts appears on the large screen, and she turns towards it.

“Nothing so far,” she reiterates as Coulson walks to meet her, to look up at the screen with her.

And perhaps because her hips are still swaying to Bill Withers, perhaps because he feels remarkably good after a solid night of rest wrapped around Skye, perhaps because it’s something he thinks he’s allowed to do now, he stands behind her instead of next to her. He stops before he’s touching her, but it’s clear from the way she shudders that she can feel his presence at her back.

“How long do you think this will take?”

His words are too soft, barely a low whisper right at her ear, and her head tilts involuntarily to grant him access to the side of her neck. The thought of kissing her there is intoxicating — _consuming_ — and when he breathes purposefully against her ear, she shivers and lets out a tiny moan.

“Hours,” she finally manages to whisper an answer to his question as she fumbles to set her tablet down on the table beside them.

“Hmm.” He’s not sure what he means to do. This is so freshly new — not even twenty four hours old — and he’s never had a relationship with someone inside SHIELD before. He shouldn’t be starting things in his office and he knows it, but he also can’t make himself pull back. And then Skye makes the decision for him by swaying backwards, bringing her back in contact with his chest.

“Skye,” he sighs her name against her ear, and she sighs back.

“Yes, sir?”

It makes Coulson chuckle, low and a little dirty with his lips almost at her neck.

“I’m not sure you should call me ‘sir’ right now.”

“You don’t like it?” He almost laughs at that, but she cuts off his reaction by pressing her ass back against him, grinding herself against his half-hard cock, as though proving that he _does_ like it.

“No, I do,” he groans lightly in her ear in agreement and then dips his head slightly more so that he can kiss her neck. “Are we gonna do this in here?” His kisses are soft, tentative brushes against her neck — prepared for her to pull away. He’s not expecting how much she likes it, though.

“Yes,” she moans her answer and tilts her head more, eagerly baring more of her neck to him. He continues to kiss her — fluttery light brushes of his lips that tease more than deliver. “Coulson,” she groans his name and pushes harder back against him. He grips her hips to hold her in place as he presses his lips more firmly against her neck, coupled with light suction and soft scrapes of his teeth that leave Skye writhing against him.

She tilts her head the other way, exposing the other side of her neck to him, and Coulson breathes out a quiet laugh as he switches sides.

“Eager,” he teases her.

“Uh huh,” she answers as she raises her right hand behind their heads to run through his hair, further guiding his head against her neck.

As he nips his way down her neck, Coulson lets his right hand wander from Skye’s hip up underneath her sweater. He drags his fingers against warm, soft skin and groans under her ear when he slides his hand up between her breasts and feels her lack of a bra. His fingers spread across her chest in order to palm her breasts as he nips at her neck, and Skye arches against him.

“Coulson,” Skye groans his name, and he grinds his cock into her ass as he pinches her nipple. He has to pause, to draw in a breath and stop himself from pushing too far too fast, from sliding her loose sweats down her legs and bending her over the table. “Coulson,” she whines this time, pleading with him for more.

“I want you so much,” he whispers in her ear, and Skye shudders against him.

“Yes. _Please_.”

She twists in his arms, turning her head enough that she can capture his lips with her own while keeping her back pressed against his chest. His right hand clutches at her breast and his left skates up from her hip in order to cup her cheek as they kiss. Skye breaks it, though, and once again tilts her head — clearly eager for his mouth on her neck. He can’t help but grin stupidly at discovering how much she likes this before he leans down and kisses her again, just under her left ear.

Her sweater rapidly becomes an obstacle, though, stopping him from reaching the base of her neck, and he breaks away from kissing her for just long enough to tug her sweater up over her head. His lips trail downwards over freshly-bared soft skin as Skye arches forward, inviting him to move his lips over the back of her neck.

Coulson brushes her hair to the side, baring the skin, before reaching forward to cup her breasts as he presses his lips to her. He nips a path down the top of her spine, nuzzling at the tops of her shoulders, as Skye begins to rock her hips back against him. It’s a steady, pulsing rhythm that he can’t help but respond to.

“Take off your pants,” Skye orders him, and Coulson groans against her shoulder as he complies. He makes quick work of his belt at the same time that Skye unties the drawstring at the top of her sweats, and as his pants and boxers fall to his ankles, Skye presses her bare ass back against him. Coulson slips his hand down her body and between her legs, and they both whimper at how _ready_ she is.

“Christ, Skye,” he grunts as his index finger finds and circles her clit several times, earning him a loud moan before Skye brushes his hand away and bends forward over the desk. Her hands press into the table across from where her laptop is set up, and she rubs her thighs together, making it look like she’s wiggling her ass at him.

“Come on.”

Coulson clenches his jaw, searching for control, as he takes himself in hand at guides himself inside of her.

They both moan at the feeling of full penetration, and Coulson leans over her, trapping her upper body as his hands slam down on either side of her head. He dips his lips down and kisses the back of her neck, but it’s quickly clear that the angle isn’t going to work.

“Please,” she sighs as she starts to move back against him, and Coulson pauses only long enough to drag his lips down the top of her spine before he stands up and grabs hold of her hips.

At his first stroke, slow and easy, Skye sighs and rocks back against him, silently encouraging him to go harder. He does, thrusting forward with more force, while she braces herself against the wooden table top.

The slow, hard thrusts continue — enough to build them up, but not enough to get either of them off. It’s good, though, because he can focus enough to enjoy every sensation, every arch of her back, every moan and sigh and panted breath. She makes a noise at every thrust, somewhere between a squeak and a grunt, and he can see goosebumps break out on her lower back.

“Faster,” she finally groans, rocking her hips back against him to force the pace to be more to her liking.

It’s over so quickly after that — his hips slamming against her as she calls out his name, too loud in this semi-public space, but he’s too far gone to care. She comes hard and sort of collapses on the tabletop, and it doesn’t take Coulson ten seconds more to follow her. He grunts out her name, repeats it as he loses himself inside of her, and then curls his body over hers.

“That was good,” Skye sighs, turning her head so that her right cheek is resting on the desk.

Coulson laughs and burrows his nose into her hair in order to kiss another slow trail down her neck.

He smiles against her ear before he pulls back and stands up.

“Yes,” he agrees.

“I thought for sure you were going to have a ‘no sex in the office’ rule,” she teases him as she stands up. While he rights his clothes and buckles his belt, she tugs up her sweats and ties them low around her hips, but then she leans back against the table again, still gloriously topless.

“I thought I would, too,” he admits.

She laughs at him — directly at him — and then even moreso when she notices his eyes focused on her breasts. Skye just shakes her head, though, and then puts on her sweater to cover up.

“Better?”

Coulson smiles at her and takes the necessary few steps to bring them toe to toe. He’s leaning in to kiss her again when Bakshi’s phone rings. They break apart and frown at each other, and Skye reaches for it, showing him the screen that declares an unknown number.

“Should I?”

“No,” he answers, and she tosses the phone back on the table. “Given how little you’ve found on it, I’m thinking Ward must have had another reason to leave it.”

“To get in touch with us, you mean.”

“Not _us_ ,” he corrects her with a frown.

“Me,” she acknowledges. She doesn't look frightened, but then not many things make Skye actually look frightened and Coulson knows better. 

His jaw clenches in a burst of anger because Ward would have known that he would hand Skye the phone immediately.

“Hey,” she calls him out of his thoughts. “Everything is fine.”

“Yes,” he agrees. “We’re going to catch him,” he promises her.

“I know.” 

 


End file.
